


Less Touchstarved

by GorseMonster



Series: Far Beyond Paradise Lost [7]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angry Sex, Ascians (Final Fantasy XIV), Big Sub Small Dom, Biting, Comfort, Lalafell Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Light Dom/sub, Nonbinary Character, Not Canon Compliant, Other, Penis In Vagina Sex, Post-Canon Fix-It, Scratching, Size Difference, Soul Bond, Trust, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-31 06:49:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21104489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GorseMonster/pseuds/GorseMonster
Summary: A day where nothing seems to just go to plan can leave anybody angry and wanting some control and relief. On days like those, simple soft comfort isn't enough, and some creatively vented anger is the perfect item on the menu.





	Less Touchstarved

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place...._somewhere_ in the Out of Tartarus universe, certainly very out of sequence for where Ira and Emet-Selch are in their relationship presently. But, sometimes you just gotta write a tired, frustrated lalafell fucking out their anger.

Ira was, for lack of better words, incandescently furious. Emet-Selch did not know about what, but the lalafell threw their body around the room, knocking things off tables, periodically growling or screaming into a pillow in frustration.

“What happened..?” he asked guardedly, approaching Ira to pick them up into an embrace. He found himself warded off with sharp thorns of aether and a swipe of clawed gauntlets, nicking the skin of his hand. He hissed slightly as red bloomed on its surface, frowning.

“I don’t want to  _ talk about it! _ ” Ira growled, ripping into the pillow with their gloved hands, feathers spilling from its insides.

Emet-Selch snatched it from their hands, snapping his fingers and returning it to its prior state. “Destroying your own housewares is not going to alleviate...whatever this is, hero!”

Ira picked up another pillow and started tearing into it. “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do with my own things,  _ Emet! _ I...I just wan- _ NEED _ something...something I can do...that I have control over.” Clawed gauntlets ripped slow slashes into the fabric, sinking a hand in and grabbing fistfuls of feathers, huffing heavy breaths as they sought to calm themself down.

“Then do as you wish to me. Anything you want.”

Ira looked up, pillow in one hand and the other filled with feathers. “Anything?” There was still an odd growl in their aether, still keeping the majority of his presence at bay with sharp thorns; spikes tipped with gold.

“Consider me entirely under your control, hero.” He opened his arms, vulnerable. Ira eyed him carefully, stopping their shredding of the pillow. Ira was accustomed to the lilt in his voice when he was playing games with them, but his voice was flat, sincere.

Need welled up in Ira, for control, for safety, for power, for  _ relief. _ “On the bed. Get on the bed,” they demanded tersely, and without a word of complaint, Emet stepped calmly over to it, and slid onto the bed, his back against the wooden wall. Ira’s belly fluttered with the simple delight of even that, following, hopping up onto his lap and standing on his thighs to grip the collar of his shirt, staring him down. He was calm, and silent and that...Ira needed something out of him. “Speak.”

A breath filled Emet-Selch’s lungs and his face curled into a smirk. “Is this truly all you wanted of me,  _ hero? _ A little lounging sit-down?” Fury rose in Ira’s throat at his teasing and it burned all the way down their spine, crushing their lips against his bruisingly to silence him, the claws of their gauntlets worrying the skin of his neck. Their tongue slipped past his lips to seek and caress his and they shivered against him, breaking the contact after a few moments. Leaning in to whisper against his ear, a horn brushing against his cheek, Ira brazenly confessed in a way he had never heard them speak before.

“I’m going fuck you, Hades. I’m going to use you for my own pleasure until I no longer want to strangle everyone I see. I will fuck you until I see stars and my world spins.” One hand’s fingers squeezed slowly at his throat, leaving pinprick wounds that bloomed into bright red.

He’d never heard them speak like this. He could feel that supernova  _ rage _ that clouded every thought in their head and he could feel that channeled into a searing need for  _ relief. _

“Are you so certain that will-” cut short by a thumb rubbing firmly at his adam’s apple, he swallowed nervously. He did not speak a single further word, not breaking eye contact with Ira, intense and furious, heated and needful all at once. They took one of his hands and slipped it beneath the waistband of their pants, letting his fingers cup their aching, slick arousal.

“Finger me,” they commanded, and with a few slow strokes to their outer folds, he carefully slipped his middle digit within, drawing a pleased ‘mmhf’ of pleasure from the lalafell, who ground against his fingers needfully. “A...ah...the other hand, take my pants off,” they murmured, and he obliged, pushing and pulling fabric until it came free of their body, leaving them with just their loose shirt and gauntlets, which gripped his arms, leaving scrapes that welted into hot, tingling red marks. 

He slowly pressed a second finger within them, drawing a shuddered gasp, letting them accustom to the feeling before slowly pumping his fingers into their tight body. “Oh, oh, oh..f.f...mmm,” Ira groaned wordlessly, pressing their head into his neck. “S-speak!”

“Look at you,  _ hero, _ acting so big and bold and brave but you’re trembling from just my fingers…” he purred, twitching the pads of his fingers at their anterior wall, pulling a cry from them. “Think how much you’ll shiver and writhe on my manhood.” It was a tease. He did not even know if Ira would demand it of him but the way their hips bucked hard against his fingers gave him an indication. “Does that excite you, my dear? Fucking yourself senseless on my c-nngh!”

They had bitten him on his neck, and Ira’s teeth were  _ sharp _ . He didn’t even mean to make the sound but Ira’s back arched as they heard it, knowing they had stolen that noise from him. They wanted to hear him moan, with the knowledge it was their actions pushing each of those sounds from his body.

“Don’t talk,” they whispered sharply, still rolling their hips against his thrusting fingers, the wetness of their arousal beginning to drip from their body as they worked themselves up, biting softly, suckling skin and making Emet-Selch shudder beneath them, his fingers curling to press again at that smooth patch of flesh just behind their pubic bone, his thumb gliding across their clit. “Make me come,” they demanded, pushing their hips against his, spurring him into action, rubbing upwards from the root of their clit, squeezing firmly at their anterior wall and rocking his fingers within. His free hand supported Ira as he felt the tell-tale twitches of their body around his fingers, and then their knees buckled, crying out as they came around his hand, squeezing his digits tight. Clawed gauntlets scraped light furrows into his skin, making him gasp in pain and delight.

Ira continued to rock against his fingers, kneeling on his thighs as they tremored through the aftershocks of their climax. “I’m not done. I want to feel  _ you _ inside me when I come this time.”

How those words, so brazen, so unlike his companion  _ burned _ in his body, biting his lip as his own arousal grew stifled, painful within his clothes.

“Undo your pants.” He could not do this fast enough, with one hand free, deftly undoing button and string and squirming with Ira on his lap to push his pants and smallclothes down, shuddering at the feel of cool air on his aching, throbbing shaft. His fingers pumped slowly within them, stretching and spreading their walls as they twitched and squeezed in response; he knew this would be...a feat for them to pull off. It always was, and the sight of it,  _ remembering _ the sight of it made his cock twitch anxiously, clear pre drooling eagerly from its tip. “Mmh, good, good. I, ah...take your fingers out.”

Emet-Selch slowly withdrew his fingers, soaked with their arousal, slowly spreading it across their outer folds until they were tapped on the arm by clawed hands. “No. Taste me.” He obliged, slipping his fingers in his mouth and curling his tongue around them, sucking them clean, returning the stare Ira gave him for as long as he could before a shudder and whimper went through his body. He saw how the smile curled on Ira’s face, a shivering outwards breath. “Until I see stars, Hades,” they repeated, the forcefulness of how they hissed his name making his back bow and his throat let out a strangled groan of delight. He did not move, he did not assist as Ira slowly drew their body over his cock, pressing his head against their entrance and slowly bearing down upon it, shivering as their body stretched to allow him. “A...ah…”

It was a tight fit, one that ached as Ira’s body got accustomed to the girth of Emet-Selch’s mortal body, and eventually the tip of his shaft slipped in with a  _ pop _ , the soft ring of his glans creating a light pressure as Ira slowly worked him inside. His hips twitched and Ira swatted his arm. “D-don’t. Don’t...even..mmmf-” they moaned, their body squeezing tight around him, and he tried to not move, even though every part of his body wanted to grab them and pull them down onto his body until his hips kissed theirs.

This was an impossibility, but it never stopped either of them from trying in the past. But here, Ira was content to sink onto him until his shaft could go no deeper, leaving a couple of inches of it exposed. He looked at the way their body accomodated him, how much it could flex to allow him to take them so intimately and his flesh responded with an eager throb that made Ira chuckle through a moan. “Ohh, please enjoy the view, my love. I want to feel how excited you are by this.”

He did just that, Ira allowing his fingers to roam, to touch stretched skin where bodies joined, his cock throbbing and twitching with his rapid heartbeat, not moving as Ira allowed their slickness to mingle, so they would be able to ride him that much easier. “You may speak,” Ira whispered, shivering, gently rocking on the girth spearing them open.

“I love seeing you like this, hero,” he purred, smiling at them, their brows drawn together in concentration, legs trembling on his thighs. It was such a strange thing for Ira to hear and their body  _ reacted _ , hips bucking even with him sank as deep as he could get. “I love seeing how determined you are to take every last bit of me.”

Ira made a sound, a whimpered moan as their hips shifted, lifting themself, and sinking back down slowly, combined fluids beading out from their stretched entrance. “H...Hades,” they moaned, gripping his arms and rolling their hips, riding him slowly, each push inwards making it easier, slicker. His back stiffened, heat burning in his pelvis each time the lalafell called his name.

“That’s my good monster.” He went for a tender touch but found Ira’s aether still thorny, and his fingers held in a shark-toothed nip, Ira growling lowly as their pace picked up, gasping, growling, their body occasionally jerking as his shaft pushed somewhere within that sent sparks up their spine.

“Stop talking...just..” Ira’s body jerked, less far apart now as they chased their peak. “C-cry for me. Come in-” another jerk, “inside me, fill me.” It was a desperate, needful plea as they felt their second peak pushing at them, gasping breaths.

It was strange for Emet-Selch to vocalise in the way Ira did, so when those first few moans of pleasure left his lips they pushed  _ his _ pleasure further, higher, gritting his teeth as heat burned down to his twitching cock, opening one eye to watch how his and their combined wetness leaked from between them, bucking his hips upwards with a gasp, following it with a groan on the exhale. He could not speak to tell Ira, but as they pushed their hips down one last time, firmly onto his aching flesh he realised they already knew, meeting their intense gaze with his hazy one, before coming undone deep within them.

The feeling of his release, heat painting delicate flesh and the way he  _ cried _ in bliss pushed Ira over the edge, hunching over as their body squeezed and milked him for everything he could give. Their breaths were slow, and shaky, making soft sounds of pleasure but not the loud cries Emet-Selch knew them for. They knew this too as they grabbed his right hand, pressing his middle finger and thumb together. “Me, again,” they demanded, pleaded, their body shuddering and jerking.

He would always oblige a request like that, current situation or no. He snapped his fingers between pulses of his climax, and a deafening silence fell on them, a sharp intake of breath as clawed gauntlets sank into his arms.

Ira  _ shrieked _ , writhing and gasping, pressing their hips down against him hard as their body was set alight by Emet-Selch, making him grunt as their body squeezed tighter still on him, white starting to leak between them as he filled them entirely. The world faded from Ira, deafened bar the beating of their heart in their ears and their vision speckled with stars, until eventually their body twitched, jerked, and fell limp against Emet-Selch’s waist and chest.

Ira tasted sweet, floral fruit on their tongue as their hearing started to return, the coolness of black tulip-hued aether trickling across theirs, wary of thorns. But they reached back, weaving against him with a slow breath out.

“Do you feel better, Ira?” he asked slowly, and they could hear the smirk on his face as calling them by name made them shiver. Ira nodded a slow affirmative, shuddering as his hands gripped their hips, slowly lifting them from his softening arousal, mixed fluids trickling down their leg as he pulled them in for a soft kiss.

“Do you want a shower?” he asked, breaking the kiss after a few moments. A slow shake of the head.

“Not yet.”

Emet-Selch made an amused sound, letting them shiver and rest on him, running his fingers through their hair, the small braid it was kept in having come loose at some point in their ardor. “It’s getting long,” he stated plainly, met with a gravelly whine from them. “I can fix this, if you desire it.”

The lowest sound of amusement came from Ira’s chest, a breathy, shaking chuckle. “I think just  _ hearing _ you snap your fingers will make me come.” They leaned up to kiss him lazily, the briefest touch of tongue against his, shivering as they tasted themself on him. “Maybe later.”

“Very well; but I must insist on showering. You are rather  _ overfull _ , my dear.” There was a purr in Emet-Selch’s voice that made Ira’s ears turn bright red, rubbing them lazily with his fingers as he kissed between their horns, and then lazily dragged soft touches of his lips against each horn, making them shiver. “I am glad you feel like yourself once more, hero.”

Even though Ira vocalised their displeasure at being moved, he held them to him and shuffled from the bed, ambling to the shower room and slipping through the half open door. With Ira in his arms and no way of turning the water on otherwise...he snapped his fingers.

Ira let out a barked moan, and he laughed.


End file.
